


music to my ears

by slimeys



Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Magic AU, Witch AU, non-magical makoto, witch Haru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 14:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17266217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slimeys/pseuds/slimeys
Summary: "Haru is glad he’s known to be a witch of few words, or else he’d have to come up with a reason as to why he’s so tongue-tied. It’s less embarrassing to have people think he doesn’t have anything to say because it isn’t important, as opposed to because Makoto, as non-magical as he is, still manages to steal the words off his tongue every time."





	music to my ears

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this forever and a day ago for the makoharu zine that was on tumblr, and i completely forgot to ever post it LMAO either way, it was a lovely project with amazing creators and amazing mods. i had a great time being able to revisit my boys and the fandom that made me love writing so much in the first place.

He hears someone come into the shop, the sound of the chimes reaching his ears in a warbled clink. Haru stays underwater, trying to ignore it. It’s been the better part of an hour and he’s still struggling to hear what the bathwater has to say to him, but at least the connection is solidifying more now than just a few minutes ago. He closes his eyes once again, settling his body into the washed-out whispers around him.

What he hears next is harder to ignore. 

“Haruka! Can you go see who’s in front?” his grandmother calls **;** like she doesn’t know what he’s been trying to do this afternoon. She seems to love breaking him out of his trances.    
  
When he goes downstairs, towards the shop, he’s surprised to see that the morning light has diluted into early afternoon, golden rays spilling in through the large front windows. It seems his one hour of focus has extended into eight; talking to the water always tends to take longer than he anticipates. 

With an absent **-** minded wave of his hand, Haru charms the light that dangles from the ceiling to shine brighter. The flowers behind the counter, roses and chrysanthemum, hum to Haru in greeting. He’s taking his sweet time greeting them in return, that he doesn’t even realize who’s waiting for him just inside the doorway. 

“I was hoping you’d be here today, Haru-chan.” 

The light filters in behind Makoto, haloing him and making him look magical in a way Haru doesn’t believe he himself could ever achieve. Makoto’s hair, his sweater, they look soft but not nearly as much as the smile he always chooses to direct at Haru. 

Haru is glad he’s known to be a witch of few words, or else he’d have to come up with a reason as to why he’s so tongue-tied. It’s less embarrassing to have people think he doesn’t have anything to say because it isn’t important, as opposed to because Makoto, as non-magical as he is, still manages to steal the words off his tongue every time. 

So when he doesn’t say anything as Makoto approaches the counter, he likes to think that it doesn’t come off as weird at all. Besides, Makoto has never needed Haru’s words to know his thoughts. 

“Mama thinks the twins accidentally picked up some bad energy—from a residual curse floating around, maybe—so she wanted me to ask for some aniseed cupcakes, if you still had them,” Makoto tells him, in that same easygoing, lilting voice that he always has. 

More than once Haru has thought about Makoto’s potential with musical magic. The idea of Makoto singing spells early in the morning, as he goes about his routine, is a treasured one that Haru is glad he gets to keep all to himself.

Haru’s gaze drifts over to the display case on the side of the counter and looks right at the empty spot where those cupcakes should be. He vaguely remembers his grandmother saying something about Haru making another batch earlier today. Whoops.

He looks back to Makoto. 

“Well,” Makoto says. 

“If you have time, I can make you some fresh ones right now. I was… busy earlier.” The curl of hair at his nape, still damp, is probably a dead giveaway. 

“You know I’m always happy to wait for you, Haru-chan.” 

Makoto’s peridot eyes are a curse on Haru’s existence and a danger to his health. As a kid, how many times did he ask his grandmother about hexes that squeezed your heart in your chest? And how many times did she smile at him so knowingly, while saying that she **,** unfortunately **,** didn’t? Goodness, Haru’s been obvious from the start. 

Out of habit, and with no heat behind it, he simply replies, “Don’t call me that.” 

The roses and chrysanthemums hum contentedly when Makoto laughs, and even the lavender growing against the far wall shivers. Haru gives the plants a look to let them know he sees their flirtations. 

“How long have the twins been having nightmares?” he asks, reaching for the recipe book even if he already knows the whole thing by heart. He stands on his tiptoes, fingers wiggling as it’s just out of reach. 

Something warm presses along his back, and then Makoto’s larger, darker-skinned hand reaches up past Haru’s to pluck the book off the shelf. His eyes are playful as he hands it over, and maybe— _ maybe— _ Haru brushes their fingers together on purpose when he takes it. 

“It’s only been a couple of days, and Mama says the energy around them isn’t too concentrated **-** if that means anything,” Makoto says, his smile crookedly cute. Whenever he talks about magic around Haru, he tends to sound a little unsure, like he’s worried about saying something dumb. Although, Makoto could say the absolute  _ dumbest _ things and Haru—not that he’d admit this out loud—is positive he wouldn’t mind. Not one bit. 

Haru nods, flipping to the page he needs and only giving it a quick glance, skimming over his own neat script detailing tweaks and variations of the recipe he’s made over the years. 

“Makoto, grab the—actually,” Haru waves his hand, and the jar of aniseed on the top shelf by Makoto’s head trembles, then floats over to join Haru on the counter.

Makoto laughs. Again, he’d be  _ so well-suited _ for music magic. “Oh, now you don’t need my help?” 

Haru, pointedly avoiding looking at Makoto’s surely smug face, clicks his tongue. “Shut up,” he says, just to make Makoto laugh again. 

He gets to making the batter, then grinds up the aniseed so he can mix it in with a charm under his breath to make the effects more potent. Haru feels his hair stand on end, a soft buzz in his ears as he wills positive protection energy to integrate with stirred-up eggs and flour. 

The buzz fades away, then: 

“Haru-chan looks very cute, with his hair all fluffed up like that.”

While Haru was doing the prep work, Makoto pulled up an old, beat-up wooden stool that Haru used to practice spells on. He’s got his elbows up on the counter, cheeks resting in his palms as he smiles at Haru with fond eyes. 

_ And Makoto looks cute all the time,  _ Haru says, but only to himself. 

Hanging on the wall over the sink are some spoons, so he grabs one to scoop out some batter and taste. It’s a little too sweet for his own liking. 

“Try this.” He offers Makoto the spoon with a bit of batter still in it, watches it disappear between his lips with too much interest. 

“It’s really good, Haru! Like always.” The smack of Makoto’s lips has to be exaggerated, comical, but his words are more than likely honest. While it isn’t to his own personal preference, Haru knows the Tachibanas all have a sweet tooth. 

The two of them chat quietly while they wait for the treats to bake. Makoto always has some story for him and while Haru could tell a few of his own, he prefers to just listen. Whatever Makoto has to say generally proves to be more interesting than anything that happens to Haru in the shop. 

“Oh, Haru! I forgot to ask earlier how much it would cost for the half-dozen,” Makoto says, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

“Just 500 yen should be okay,” murmurs Haru, and he knows it’s nowhere near the actual price he should be asking for, but. It’s the Tachibanas. He considers it a family discount. 

Makoto’s face is incredulous. “Haruuu! It should be at least 1000, no?” He’s already pulling out the correct amount to all but throw at him. 

“No.” Haru clasps his fingers around Makoto’s wrist to stop him. “Don’t worry about it, Makoto.” 

“Ah, Haru, come on!” Green eyes start to plead. Makoto is so awful; it’s like looking at a puppy and denying it of hugs. “Will you at least let me give you a tip?” 

“A tip?” Here they go, like every other time Makoto’s mom sends him to Haru’s shop for something. “How much?”

“I was thinking,” Makoto rises off the stool, leans across the counter.

He leans further in, completely invading Haru’s bubble—literally, his energy bubble that tends to do a fine job of keeping people from getting too close, given those people aren’t Makoto, or Nagisa, or Rin, or Kisumi… Actually, it would be a good idea to recharge that spell, now that Haru thinks about it. 

Or maybe, at least for right now, he should just think about other things. Things like, the gentle press of Makoto’s mouth against his own and the broad hand that comes up to cup his face. They kiss sweet and slow, Makoto rubbing his thumb against Haru’s cheek in short strokes, and Haru with a hand placed on the soft fabric stretched over Makoto’s chest.   
  
The lights flicker. There’s a buzz and then they dim before illuminating the shop in an obscenely bright light that makes the plants bow and hum excitedly. The chimes shiver in a melody Haru knows only the two of them have ever heard. 

He feels Makoto smile against his lips, and laugh **:** “That much?”

Haru pulls away with a twitch at the corners of his mouth. He’ll indulge Makoto— _ just this once _ , because every other time Makoto has done the same before this doesn’t count.    
  
He steals another peck, since he may as well indulge himself as well, and murmurs, “Yeah. I think that’ll be enough.”    
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, and if you got the zine thank you for the support <3


End file.
